


Chasing the Bad, Loud Guests Away

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Experience, Introvert, Other, Random & Short, Short Story, Social Anxiety, crave for comfort, enneagram type 6, might be triggering anxiety/panic attack/vertigo, simple partial seizure, very mild illness, weird sensation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26632480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I've always felt so alone. But don't we all?





	Chasing the Bad, Loud Guests Away

I first experienced this weird sensation when i was a child. I had a bad fever. I bathed in cold sweats and was covered in a thick blanket. It started with a weird dream. 

A plumpish, oversized man jumping out of an airplane kilometers up in the air and all the other people taking their turns almost instantly. _"What must it feel like to jump?"_ they might've thought with thrill. While their hearts pound with atingle, mine shruddered with extreme anxiousness throughout my whole body. 

I sat up, half-awake and everything was _not okay_. It was fast. Everything around me was fast. Even though not all were moving, everything was flashing fast. I wanted it to stop. I kept shouting and begging to make it stop. I was talking gibberish and mom was beside me. She was frantic. Dad fetched an energy drink from the fridge outside. And while he took his paced steps afoot, our brown wooden floor trembled with the mattress. My dad's heavy walking and floor trembling are none out of the ordinary, but the racing sounds were odd and horrorifying. I wanted my mom to stop speaking. I wanted my dad to be gentle and slow. I just wanted everything to stop. And it did. 

It happens to me once in a while. Mostly in the early morning, when it's silent and i'm alone. The familiar sounds of the water rushing to escape from the faucet and the whispers of the wind that play with the leaves all kept bugging me, relentlessly reminding me of their exsistence.

As I was doing my morning ritual on the toilet seat with a hand on my phone, once again those sensations enveloped me. As if someone pressed the fast-forward button of my life and I try to conciously slow it back down. _"No, no, no..."_ Like my previous episodes, it was all I mumured. Along with the loud beats on my chest, everything was starting to intensify.

They never stopped visiting. Like uninvited and strongly despised guests, they come once in a while. They used to stay for a few seconds before I have distracted myself just right. But this time it had no plans of leaving so soon.

My dad used to hug me and caress my back at times they greeted me in the morning. I would knock on his door and sit on the floor with my arms around myself, breathing heavily. _"'s fast."_ And he knew the drill. He opened the door and embraced me in his arms, and after a while they went away. As if my dad was a superhero and he chased them far.

When I first started getting them, I thought that talking out loud to myself could make them go away. But they were never scared of me. I have never chased them away in doughty. I bet they just leave me alone when they have found their dose of pity. Maybe it's because my voice always came out small and was always filled with hesitations. I've never looked strong.

The sounds felt as if they wanted to attack me. But I knew it was all me. I knew everything was just fine, and I do feel normal for a second or two only for them to come back. They felt like threats. But, what do they even threaten me with?

I was being in the eye of a hurricane and also simultaneously being in the storm only I could be in. I was alone. And at this point, maybe, just maybe, I was the one who let them in in the first place. Maybe I was the one who wished for them. Maybe even though they made me feel uncomfortable, weak and small, they brought me company. Because maybe I felt so alone before that I wanted something to happen or make the time go faster or let people know that how much time they had of me was limited just like anyone else just so that they would look at me. Maybe I wanted people to show me how much they value me. I wanted an interaction and they gave it to me. And maybe, at times when I'm desperate, they visit me. Maybe to play with me or use me as their toy or to toughen me up. 

Aside from these bad sensations, one more thing that I hate was being entitled as an annoying person. So I rarely asked for favors. I rarely asked for attention. But to be honest, I craved it. Along with repeated soft touches on my skin and warm comfortable hugs, I craved it. I used to get them from a person that turned out to be a villan - a supervillan of somebody else's story. He made me think I deserved them when he had good days and don't when he's at his bad ones. But I realized, he may have treated me like his favorite dog who he feeds, takes care of and comes home to. I provided him my attention and loyalty. He chased the all the bad guests away so that he wouldn't suffer the consequences if ever they grew stronger and worse.

I placed my arm over my sister as she stirred in her sleep. The surroundings were still intense to me. I heard the standard rythmic noise the ceiling fan vibrated in urgency that never stopped. I made my breaths heavy. I could breathe, I know that. But I wanted to have even just a little bit of control over the sounds I receive. And as much as I hated it, I whimpered for my sister and she awoke. She told me to lie down again and numbers of how much I should breathe. My heart was pounding, I clasp one of my fists and continued breathing soundly. With wearying effect, the flew out. 

Finally. It was gone. They stopped. And I smiled. I wanted to convince my sister it was insignificant. But I didn't. 

I know I can handle being alone. I know that more than anyone else. There's nothing wrong in being or feeling alone. But I just want someone to try, slap me and tell me that even though I utmost certainly abhor them they will stay because I'm unique just like everyone else, in my own way, and they won't let any moment with me waste. Because there is only one me, and they love me.

 _Alice in The Wonderland Syndrome_ , it might be what they call it. But I have a feeling that it's a simple partial seizure. I've never had a chance for a session of therapy or diagnostic, I cannot afford.

**Author's Note:**

> The sadness, the pain, the suffering are all part of life. Let's dwell on them and move on anyway. Never forget to feel how much we could be happy.


End file.
